


You're an idiot.

by Selena_Guardi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Baby Watson, Babysitting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 17:36:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3986833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selena_Guardi/pseuds/Selena_Guardi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I spent a nice day at the Barbican Conservatory and somehow got inspired to write this little Sherlolly one shot. I didn’t really intend for this to get so long but I guess I got carried away. Writing little Lizzie was so much fun and I will definitely include her in more stories from now on. Kids can just say anything. That being said, I have no idea how eloquent a child would be at the age of five nor when you actually lose your teeth. I just took the liberty of writing what I felt like :D</p><p>The prompt, first and last line are from <a href="http://liathwen-slays-dragons.tumblr.com/">liathwen-slays-dragons</a>’s list of fic prompts. The prompt was “Do kids really like this” but I guess I strayed a bit from that, but i kept the first line and only added a bit to the last. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	You're an idiot.

**Author's Note:**

> I spent a nice day at the Barbican Conservatory and somehow got inspired to write this little Sherlolly one shot. I didn’t really intend for this to get so long but I guess I got carried away. Writing little Lizzie was so much fun and I will definitely include her in more stories from now on. Kids can just say anything. That being said, I have no idea how eloquent a child would be at the age of five nor when you actually lose your teeth. I just took the liberty of writing what I felt like :D
> 
> The prompt, first and last line are from [liathwen-slays-dragons](http://liathwen-slays-dragons.tumblr.com/)’s list of fic prompts. The prompt was “Do kids really like this” but I guess I strayed a bit from that, but i kept the first line and only added a bit to the last. Enjoy!

* * *

"She likes your butt and fancy hair."  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
Sherlock had stopped abruptly, blinking rapidly as he stared at little Lizzie who casually walked on as if she hadn't even said a word.  
  
“What did you just say?” he asked her, gently pulling her to a stop at her shoulder.  
  
“She likes your butt and fancy hair,” she repeated looking up at him innocently with her big blue eyes.  
  
Smiling at him she shrugged her shoulders and wanted to walk on but Sherlock halted her once more.  
  
“How would you know?” he inquired quietly briefly glancing at Molly who luckily was out of hearing distance strolling along the path further away.  
  
“Molly said so. She told Mum. I heard them talking. Don't look confused, Uncle Sherlock. I know you like her, too,” Lizzie replied grinning at him showing off her new tooth gap.  
  
As Sherlock didn't say anything else she turned around again and resumed jumping playfully along the path between the plants.

* * *

 _The day before_  
  
“What do you mean Mary thought it would be better if Molly came along, too?” Sherlock huffed setting his friend's mug of tea down harder than he had wanted.  
  
“I've babysitted before. Why does she think I can't do it alone all of a sudden?”  
  
“Well...” John started taking a sip of tea to buy himself time. “You know, just after what happened last time.”  
  
“What do you mean? Nothing happened.”  
  
“You took Lizzie to a crime scene for God's sake, Sherlock,” John exclaimed nearly laughing at his friend's inability to understand why that was considered wrong.  
  
“That was hardly my fault. Lestrade called. What should I have done? Leave her at the zoo? And I bet she learned far more at the crime scene than she would have by staring at lions and penguins all day.”  
  
“Well, that kind of learning isn't something we want her to get into just yet. She's only five. Maybe try to keep the education age appropiate?” John chuckled.  
  
He knew his friend would never get Lizzie into any sort of danger. The detective had shown more affection for the little girl than anybody could have expected and as far as John was concerned he was fulfilling his role as Uncle Sherlock amiably. He simply needed a little reminder now and again what kind of activities were suitable for a child. Colouring in a book about squirrels: good. Dissecting one: not so good.  
  
Sherlock only grumbled incromprehensibly into his mug and settled deeper into his chair.  
  
“It's not that we don't trust you. And if Lestrade calls tomorrow you can simply leave Lizzie with Molly and everything will be fine.”  
  
“Okay,” Sherlock mumbled and went into the kitchen.  
  
“Great. Good, so we'll bring her round at 10 tomorrow, okay? Molly said she'd come here as well,” John explained gettting up and putting his jacket back on. “I've got to get going. I see you tomorrow.”  
  
Sherlock only stared into the fridge hardly registering what John had said, but being used to his friend's behaviour John only nodded and went into the hall.  
  
As he heard Sherlock's "Tell Mrs Hudson I'd like some biscuits." from upstairs he just laughed to himself. Some things never changed. Mrs Hudson was on holiday visiting her sister in Scotland. She actually had been the entire week. Sherlock probably hadn't even notised.

* * *

"Sherlock?"  
  
Molly knocked tentatively on the living room's door that stood half open. As usual the downstairs door hadn't been locked and she knew from experience that he wouldn't react to the bell, so Molly had just let herself in. As she got no response she gingerly stepped inside finding the detective in his chair his eyes closed hands resting under his chin.  
  
"Hi, I know I'm a bit early. I took the bus and I didn't want to be late, so I took an earlier one and-"  
  
"Stop rambling, Molly," Sherlock cut her off without opening his eyes. "Sit."  
  
Obeying silently Molly took a seat on the couch placing her bag next to her. Unsure of what to say she just looked around the room a bit while Sherlock still seemed to be deep in thought.  
  
"So, coffee?" He asked leaping out off his chair with a sudden burst of energy, making Molly jump slightly. "Of course, I can make tea. But the coffee's already done," he explained looking at her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Oh, yes of course. Coffee would be nice," Molly replied and Sherlock trudged off into the kitchen.  
  
As he returned with two steaming mugs he handed one to Molly and then sat down again cautiously sipping his own coffee. To Molly's surprise there was already milk in her coffee and a hint of sugar, just the way she liked it. Maybe that was a coincidence. Sherlock couldn't possibly remember how she took her coffee, or did he?  
  
"So, what did you have planned for today?" she asked after they had sat in silence for a bit.  
  
"Pathology museum," he said instantly.  
  
"Pathology museum?"  
  
"Yes, at Bart's. You work there, I thought you knew about it," Sherlock replied glancing up from his coffee only to see the way Molly was looking at him. "What?" he asked slightly affronted. "It's not the morgue! There are no dead bodies, it's not a crime scene. It's a museum."  
  
"Yes, it is, but it's not the Natural History though. It's not interactive, there's nothing much to look at, not exactly for kids, you know? Lizzie can't even read yet."  
  
"I thought you could explain everything. After all it's your speciality," Sherlock returned.  
  
"Well, I guess I could. But don't you think she would get bored?"  
  
"Oh, so then what would you suggest?" Sherlock demanded. "Let me guess, a trip to the park. Hardly original."  
  
"Actually, no," Molly responded sitting up a bit.  
  
She knew that she was right about this and she wouldn't let him bully her into giving in. She had put some thought into it and she knew that Lizzie would actually like her idea. But she didn't want to endure a grumpy Sherlock all day either so she had to trick him into some sort of compromise.  
  
"It's still too cold outside and far too windy today anyway for the park," she started. "So I thought we could go to the Conservatory at the Barbican. They have a lot of exotic plants and it's indoor but no stuffy museum." Seeing Sherlock's darkened look she quickly added. "And it's close to St Bart's, so we can always head over there and still go to the museum. We have all day. And the Conservatory is only open on Sundays and I haven't been for ages."  
  
"A couple of plants in a greenhouse? That's your big plan?"  
  
"Well, we can let Lizzie decide," she suggested looking at him challengingly.  
  
And after a little pause Sherlock just nodded.  
  
Of course Lizzie chose the Conservatory. Not only because she couldn't quite pronounce pathology yet but also because she liked plants. And after screaming "Green House, green house, green house!", for a few minutes while excitedly jumping around Molly's feet the day's plan was decided. Saying goodbye to the Watsons and ensuring them that they would look after their little daughter, they shoved the parents out the door and soon were on their way themselves.  
  
Though, just like Molly had predicted, Sherlock was a acting a bit grumpy after having to admit his defeat, he offered to carry Lizzie's things and their packed lunch as they walked towards the bus stop. And as Lizzie pulled Molly up the stairs to get a front seat he even caught himself smiling. It was strange how easily his little goddaughter could influence him. At first he hadn't wanted  to admit to himself how much he cared for her but there was no use in denying that he simply adored her. And it was a good feeling.  
  
"Uncle Sherlock!" Lizzie shouted from the top of the bus and ripped him from his thoughts. "We saved a seat for you."  
  
With a few quick steps he was up the stairs where Lizzie was already waiting for him eargly pointing to the seat beside her.  
  
"Thank you," he told her smiling at her gently while sitting down.  
  
"I always ride on the top of the bus," she explained prouldy pressing her nose against the glass. "And Mummy and Daddy sit next to me, just like you."  
  
"That's nice," Molly answered making sure that Lizzie didn't slip off her seat.  
  
"But they always hold hands behind my back. And sometimes they kiss," Lizzie went on pulling a face. "Why do grown-ups always kiss?"  
  
"Well because they love each other," Molly explained with a hearty laugh, "if you like somebody really much  you kiss them sometimes."  
  
"Is that why Mummy and Daddy kiss me goodnight?"  
  
"Exactly, they do that because they really like you."  
  
Lizzie contemplated that thought for a while before nodding. "I like that," she agreed returning her attention to the street below again. "Why do you two never kiss?"  
  
"We?" Molly asked a bit perplexed.  
  
"You and Uncle Sherlock," Lizzie explained leaning back and looking back and forth between them. "You like each other, don't you, Uncle Sherlock?"  
  
"Yes, but...." Sherlock started suddenly a bit lost for words.  
  
"That's different," Molly jumped in after overcoming the first shock. "We are friends. Friends don't kiss."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because they are just friends. It's... hard to explain, there are certain rules."  
  
"Grown-up rules are complicated."  
  
"Yes," Molly agreed laughing maybe a bit too loud while hoping her face wasn't as red as it felt.  
  
Just for a second she caught Sherlock's glance and she couldn't quite read his expression. Not wanting to make the situation even more uncomfortable though, she quickly turned away and opted for looking out of the window.  
  
The rest of the ride went by without any further awkwardness and beside occasionally pointing out a red phone box or a cab on the street, Lizzie seemed content with just looking at the shops that passed by as the bus drove on.  


* * *

_She likes your butt and fancy hair._ Sherlock didn't quite know what to make of this information but he couldn't help but check his reflection in the glass of the green house. Before realising what he was actually doing he ruffled his hair a bit only to shake his head in disbelief a moment later. Why should it matter to him what Molly thought of his hair. His hair wasn't fancy. What was he even doing? Shaking off those unwanted thoughts he looked back on the path but both Molly and Lizzie had disappeared behind the next corner.  
  
Molly had been right, Lizzie enjoyed the Conservatory immensely, awing at all the different plants and asking question over question about greenhouses and palm trees and why some plants had to grow inside when others lived outside. She had a keen eye for details and her undying curiosity was astounding. And he liked the way Molly always seemed to know how to explain everything. Of course, he knew a great deal about the different plants of the planet but sometimes he couldn't quite make Lizzie understand. Molly simply knew how to talk to the little girl. Turning another corner he tried to spot the two but it was hard to see far ahead on the winding path that lead through the thick greenery.  
  
Just as he contemplated taking the stairs to the higher level to find them an elderly woman came down another path smiling at him friendly.  
  
"If you are looking for your wife and daughter. They are just through here at the little pond. You can lose one another so easily in here, don't you?" she said as she patted his arm slightly.  
  
"They are not my-"  
  
"Just through here and then around the corner. You'll hear the little fountain," she repeated without letting him speak before walking on in the other direction.  
  
"- not my wife and daughter," Sherlock finished but the lady was already gone.  
  
As he found them Molly was unpacking their lunch and they ate sitting on a little bench by the pond enjoying the calming sound of the fountain. Afterwards they wandered through the rest of the conservatory going through humid rooms heavy with moisture and dry warm ones simulating a dessert climate.  
  
"You have to admit it's nice here," Molly teased him as Lizzie ran off a bit further spotting a colourful flower.  
  
"I must say it is... quite fascinating. But I still think she would have enjoyed the pathology museum as well."  
  
"You can't admit it, can y-"  
  
"Uncle Sherlock!!" Lizzie screamed and both looked up immediately afraid that something had happened.  
  
But as Lizzie came running around the corner grinning from ear to ear they  both let out a relieved sigh.  
  
"Bees!!" She screamed tugging Sherlock along at his sleeve. "They have bees!"  
  
"Bees?" Sherlock inquired and his face literally lit up as he tried to keep up with his goddaughter urging him to go faster.  
  
Smiling fondly Molly followed them leisurely. Yes, she had put some thought into this. And maybe she hadn't only considered what Lizzie would enjoy when she chose the day's activity.  
  
Soon any thoughts of the stuffy old pathology museum were forgotten and they spent the rest of the afternoon looking at the beehives and talking to the staff and Sherlock giving more than one speech on the importance of bees while Lizzie listened intently to every word. By the end of the day everybody was more than happy and it was no wonder that Lizzie could hardly keep awake on the bus back home. Holding onto Molly's hand she leaned against Sherlock and fell asleep as soon as the bus started moving, cuddling into her godfathers coat.  
  
"I can admit it, you know," Sherlock spoke quietly not wanting to wake her.  
  
"Mh?" Molly replied confused looking up from Lizzie to Sherlock.  
  
"You were right. The conservatory was the better idea."  
  
"Oh," Molly said looking down at the sleeping Lizzie between them. "Thank you."  
  
"Sometimes I don't really know what _children_ do. Even when me and my brother were small we seemed to like different activities than the others. Sometimes I don't know if I'm doing _this_ right," he admitted gesturing with his free hand to Lizzie.  
  
"She adores you. You are brilliant around her. The way you talked about bees. Don't worry, Sherlock. You're better _at this_ ," she said smiling at him again, "than you might think you are."  
  
As they reached their final stop Sherlock easily lifted the sleeping Lizzie off her seat and they got off the bus together.  
  
"So, this was nice," Molly said looking up at him. "My bus stop's just around the corner. I'm rather exhausted myself, maybe I'll head home. Mary and John are picking her up soon, right? Do you think you can manage without me until then?"  
  
"She's sleeping and it's only another 10 minutes. Of course I can manage," Sherlock replied rolling his eyes.  
  
"Okay, good." Molly nodded and leaned in closer whispering into Lizzie's ear, "Goodbye, Lizzie. Sleep well."  
  
Running one hand gently over the child’s head Molly leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before stepping back again only to find Sherlock smiling at her a look on his face she wasn't sure she had ever seen before. And although she somehow couldn't quite make out it's meaning she smiled back at him. Unwilling to move and unsure what to say they simply stood there looking at each other, Lizzie peacefully dozing in Sherlock's arms.  
  
"Bus, right," Molly suddenly remembered and pulled herself away. "Erm, I'll see you at Bart's I guess," she said and smiled at him again unsure.  
  
He only nodded and after Molly had lingered just another moment she finally turned around heading for her bus stop. Sherlock watched her walk down the street a bit before he, too, turned on his heels and made his way to 221B. Up in his flat he gently put Lizzie on the couch finding a blanket to tuck her in while they were waiting for her parents to pick her up. As he brushed a lose strand of blonde hair out of her face Lizzie stirred a bit and looked up at him blinking.  
  
"Shhhh, go back to sleep," he whispered smoothing her hair back.  
  
"Where is Aunt Molly?" Lizzie asked half asleep.  
  
"She went home. Your parents will be here any minute. You can sleep."  
  
"Did you kiss Aunt Molly goodbye?" Lizzie inquired her eyes already closed again.  
  
Sherlock thought about her question for a moment and smiled at the little girl.  
  
"No," he whispered.  
  
"You’re an idiot, Uncle Sherlock," Lizzie murmured barely audible as she drifted back off.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering where Lizzie learned the word idiot. It was actually John who didn’t watch his tongue but of course he blames it on Sherlock. ;)  
> 


End file.
